


Shoulder Checking Through a Brick Wall

by Culumacilinte



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [9]
Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: Arguing, Baby Boosh, Gen, Hugs, bolshy baby Noel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culumacilinte/pseuds/Culumacilinte
Summary: It's new; they're still figuring out how for it to not be effortless





	Shoulder Checking Through a Brick Wall

‘Whatever.’

'That ain’t what an apology sounds like, you know’, Noel says stubbornly. It comes out sounding a little bit bratty, and he flushes hot as soon as he says it, but he refuses to take it back. His hands ball into fists at his sides.

He can already feel his face blotchy and tight with his embarrassing tears from earlier, welling up not because he was sad or hurt or whatever (even though, okay, he was hurt a bit), but because he was  _frustrated_. He and Julian are usually so much on the same wavelength, when they suddenly run into walls where it’s like they  _can’t_  communicate, it’s so frustrating it makes Noel want to yell. A little more blushing now can hardly make that much of a difference; he probably already looks ridiculous.

Julian blinks at him, looking genuinely baffled, like he’d thought the matter was settled, and Noel scowls, feeling his eyes prickle again. He admires Julian so much, Julian is the coolest and funniest person Noel has ever known, but sometimes that makes him feel embarrassingly young and silly. Sometimes Julian does things that don’t help with that feeling.

'I– what?’ He blinks again, and Noel clenches his jaw, barrelling forward.

'You’re being a right dick!’ he squawks. He knows he probably looks like a teenager throwing a strop, but goddamnit he’s  _right_ , and if they’re gonna be comedy partners, he has to learn how to call Julian out. Or something. He scowls again, scrubbing his wrist across his eyes. 'If you don’t think it’s a good idea, just tell me so, don’t fucking… go all aloof and ride over me like it ain’t even worth talking about.’ He flushes again, making obstinate eye contact, and Julian looks suddenly and abruptly down, his massive hands going to fiddle with his shirttails.

'Oh– Noel– shit’, he mutters, looking up and wincing and swearing again. 'Shit.’

'Yeah’, Noel agrees. He doesn’t know what Julian’s going to do, what he even  _wants_  him to do, but he wants them to get better at this. He’s already pretty sure that he wants to… whatever the comedy equivalent of marry Julian is, which makes rows and failures to communicate scarier than maybe they should be. That’s embarrassing too.

He compulsively fusses with his hair, chewing on his lip and looking up at Julian, and Julian seems to come to some conclusion, because moments later he’s in front of Noel, bundling him into his big long arms and his broad chest. All the tension goes out of Noel in a huge breath, leaving him feeling like a deflated bagpipe, and he snuggles in, burying his face in Julian’s sternum.

'Sorry’, Julian murmurs into the top of his hair, like it’s easier for him to say when he doesn’t actually have to look at Noel. 'You’re right, I was being a dick. I don’t– sorry.’

'Sawright’, Noel mumbles, because it feels like it is, it feels like Julian means it, holding him like this. 'You’re just too Northern, prob'ly; all that stiff upper lip an’ that. ’S why you need a Cockney bitch like me.’

Julian huffs a laugh and hugs Noel in a little closer, and even though Noel still feels all wrung out and embarrassed, something small in his chest glows. 

 


End file.
